The Absolution
by CodenniumRed
Summary: There IS no Heaven. There is only HELL. And soon, the Great God of Death will purify the known world. What could this possibly mean for the kingdom of Cross?
1. Death is Just the Beginning

**The Absolution**

**CHAPTER I:**

**Death is Just the Beginning:**

A lone torch, fastened high upon a rotted wooded beam, provided the only source of light in an otherwise dark hallway. Its red glow, diffusing almost evenly with the surrounding dungeon, was then broken by the shroud of a hooded figure. Slowly yet deliberately, this form moved to the end of the hall, descending a rotted stairwell that it knew led to the castle's prison.

Two lightly armored guards waited at the bottom of the stairwell, flanked by a large metal door that led directly into the prisons themselves. One of them was fast asleep; the other, however, saw the figure approaching. Nudging the other guard awake, he quickly stood up, prepared to halt the encroaching being.

"You are not permitted to be here," the guard spoke. The hooded figure could tell that both guards appeared to be quite nervous. Excellent.

"Stop!" the other guard ordered. No... _pleaded_....

The hooded figure nonetheless continued towards them, speaking not a word in reply. The guard that had been asleep was the first to try and strike - but to no avail. His sword cleaved not living flesh, but thin air, and the cloak wrapped around it before finding its death grip on the guard himself.

Through death, the guard would become one with The Shroud, helping to energize the pit where his soul ought to be. The sensation could not be described in words. Ritualistically, the tattered cloak first wrapped around the guards neck, constricting his breathing. Then, rippling between the guard's skin and muscle tissue, bursting through his insides, the guard could only attempt to scream in agony before being fully consumed by the dark tangle. Shattered bones and bloody remains then fell to the earth. The consumption was complete.

The first guard had witnessed all of this, and was too paralysed with fear to fight or run away - he simply _stared_. He payed for his insolence with his life, in an even more lengthy, gruesome fate.

The figure then approached the large metal door that stood between him and his goal. Neither guard had the key, but that was hardly a problem; it took but a motion to seep his form through the door's minuscule cracks. Once again whole on the other side, The Shroud then realized just how close to his goal he had become. Was it to regain his humanity? Attain status? Acquire Immortality, even? No, it was even better than these things combined.

For hidden beyond the prison, unknown to most, was an enclave of guardian spirits, who guarded a relic said to bestow upon its user the ultimate power.

----------

****

The morning sun basked Cross Castle in a surreal glow; it had been awhile since the kingdom saw a nice day. Princess Kayla walked along gently through the castle garden, thankful for the approach of springtime. The buds on the trees had already sprouted, the flowers already blooming. She was lost in the beauty, a rare reward during these wretched times.

"Kayla!? Kayla milady!" This was the voice of a chambermaid. "Breakfast is ready!"

Breakfast, so soon? "Oh my, I totally forgot!"

Trotting as fast as her blue skirts would allow, she quickly greeted the fellow maids and guards as she made her way to the castle's inner sanctum. Her smooth brown hair whipped in her eyes, she didn't bother to put it back in a pony tail this morning. Finally reaching a pair of iron doors, Kayla hesitated before pushing her way through; as she expected, the King was already seated at the giant dining table that resided within. This was her stepfather, King Clother T. Cross.

"Ah, Kayla, lovely morning, isn't it? No doubt you've noticed."

"Yes father," Kayla replied. "I just came from the gardens; it's been so long since I've seen such a beautiful day."

Well, he wasn't _really_ her father. Kayla was really from the continent of El, driven away from her homeland thanks to the Sorcery Globe incident. The Hierarchy had been destroyed, Kayla the Princess now an orphan. Soldiers on mop-up duty rescued her from the sewer she hid in for two-odd weeks. Recognizing her as royalty, they took her in to live within the protected confines of Cross. And here she was still, four years later.

"Days like today are a rarity as of late." Clother continued. "As you know, these times have been rather trying upon my heart. Within the past decade, both flood and famine has wrought hard times upon these lands. Days like today might very well be my last; I fear that I do not have much time left."

They've had this talk before. Clother's health had been failing, despite his relatively young age. These were only minor ailments; she was sure the King had much time to live still left.

"It is up to you to continue in my footsteps. Find somebody to marry, to watch over you, for my own health is failing. Though I do not wish for you to marry one whom you do not desire, the importance of finding somebody cannot be denied. Your mother would have been proud...."

Kayla knew that she would someday have to serve the people of Cross. This was a task that she did not feel ready for, and had little desire to carry out. But what could she do about it? The welfare of the entire nation depended on the perseverance of the Hierarchy. Her mother, Queen Celine, had gone missing long ago while on a routine treasure hunt - with Clother gone she would indeed be alone.

The rest of breakfast passed in silence. Without uttering another word, Kayla rose from her seat and left the sanctum, only sparing a single glance back. As Clother wondered if he had been too stressful on her, another figure entered the very doors that Kayla exited through. Adorned in white robes and spiritual crests, he was Cross's leading Heraldic user. And he was Clother's best friend.

This man was known as Petrus, and to show up at this time signified that something important has transpired.

"Sometimes I feel that I expect too much responsibility from my daughter," Clother began. "She is but a child after all. What brings you here, Petrus?"

"I arrive with urgent news! There is no easy way for me to tell you this, but the Crest of Souls has been stolen!"

"What!? How!?" King Clother was exasperated. "Impossible!"

"Calm down," Petrus pleased, "Somebody might hear. Come, we'll investigate the matter personally."

"How did you find out?"

"I've felt its power being accessed," Petrus responded. "No doubt that somebody with tremendous power has attained the artifact, and has already put it to their own whimsical uses."

Clother was at a loss of words. If the Crest of Souls was indeed missing, there's no telling what evil might befall the world. Nobody besides Petrus and himself were even supposed to _know_ that it resided beneath Evermore Castle; there's no doubt that whoever stole it already wielded tremendous power.

As Petrus and the King retreated from the sanctum, neither noticed the relatively small figure behind the door, listening in on their endeavours.

----------

****

The castle prison was a depressing, dreary place, the perfect spot to discourage people from discovering the secret enclave accessible only through here – that is, until now. Wet, cold, and damp, one who did not have knowledge of the layout would surely die if allowed to roam free from their cell. As it was, most dungeon cells were filled with nothing but rotted skeletons, and an unlucky few living captives had them as their only companions.

The unusual sight, though, was the presence of what used to be guards and overseers strewn about the lair. Mangled, mutilated bodies, dripping blood unto the hard stone floor below provided a stench unlike both Reinor and Petrus had ever experienced.

King Clother then noticed a lone prisoner, huddled into the corner of a cell. In his heyday he had been a feared murderer; what force could have possibly changed this man into the figure that now huddled before him?

Slowly, the prisoner looked up at the King, fear in his eyes. "It... came for us."

"What came?"

Closing his eyes, the prisoner uttered a few words in silence, shaking the whole time, until managing to say only one word:

"**_Death._**"

Before Clother or Petrus could utter another word, the prisoner ceased all motion. He was dead.

"By the Gods... what is going on here!?" Clother was getting nervous; he even drew his sword. "Petrus, ready your incantation so we can access the secret cavern. Quickly!"

The dead prisoner's eyes were locked into Clother's. He could bear to look into them no longer. As the two left the cell to traverse even deeper, Clother could've sworn that he felt the prisoner still staring at them....

After awhile the two arrived at what almost looked like an underground crypt. This was the spot where Petrus could use his spell to access the legendary Cavern of Souls. King Clother wondered what might have befallen the spirits if the artifact they protected was indeed gone.

"_Oh great one, grant us access to your abode. Let us pass to pay our respects. And may your Seraphs protect and guide us as we did to they._"

With that, a blinding light – an ethereal glow – then encompassed the two. Within seconds the light became so blinding that sight was impossible. As fast as it came, though, the light dissipated, and the duo found themselves inside what was The Cavern of Souls itself.

The chamber was indeed a spectacle to behold. Crystalline surfaces basked the cavern walls in a soft, azure glow. Central supports of colossal proportions were adjoined to an inverted pedestal jutting from the ceiling. From the apex of this dais was the location of where the Stone of Souls itself used to be; it seemed to be gone after all, along with whoever had taken it.

"I had hoped it to be untrue," the King admitted, "But I am afraid this disaster is all too real."

"Who or whatever was able to attain the artifact somehow knew of the secrets of Evermore castle prior to the breach; the enclave, the guardian spirits, everything," Petrus began, trying to calm Clother into thinking clearly. "Though I cannot feel the presence of the guardians. It seems that they have been destroyed after all."

"They had been my _friends_, Petrus. In life, they were more to me than just members of The Knighthood of Tria. Upon their deaths, I wished not to let go of them, and the secret of Cross Castle let me hold on to that wish... you remember my requests to come down here in secret. But it seems they have slipped away from me after all."

"We all have to let go sometime, Clother. They were my friends as well. You blame yourself for their initial deaths; remember that it was _not_ your fault. The Knighthood was meant to be broken."

"Yeah, yeah, it was that traitor within our own ranks... that... _Necros_ character. But I was _blind_, Petrus. **_I_** inaugurated him without thinking of the possible consequences of my decision. Necros was one of the best swordsman out there, a lot like Dias. But he had his own agendas. I was blind because I wanted his power... I was just as bad as he was."

"Clother, don't say that! It was **_his_** arrogance and greed that led to the deaths of our fellows. Just because you wanted to utilize his power doesn't make you evil! You wished to use his power to do good; it was _he_ that came to lust for his own glory! There was no way you could have foretold his plight. Besides, he's dead now; his omnipotence is no longer a threat!"

"You don't know that, Petrus! We never _did_ find his body. What if he came back for me? For _Kayla_?"

"What!? That's preposterous! You're thinking that _he's_ the culprit? He had never even known an inkling of Heraldry, there's no way he could have gotten in here! What we must do now is focus on the task at hand. How, Clother, do you plan on facing this situation?"

"You're right," Clother finally gave in. "Kayla and the rest of the Kingdom are still in danger. We must put the castle on high alert. The prisoner referred to whatever came through as 'Death.' Maybe this signifies a hooded figure?"

"He could have shed his disguise by now," Petrus suggested. "Though you are right to think that he might still be lingering around. He hasn't accessed the Crest of Souls for awhile now; if close enough, the surge would allow me to tell where he is."

"That settles it, then. The castle will be under complete lockdown... _nobody_ goes in or out. **_Ever_**."

----------

****

From atop a lofty tower, Princess Kayla looked down upon the city surrounding the castle. How she longed to be able to spend just one day milling about as a commoner, mingling with the neighbourhood kids. Or, better yet, travelling the world. Evermore was a vast kingdom, yes, but her duties as future Queen kept her stuck here. Why was her father so overprotective of her anyway? What was the harm of getting out once and a while?

Not only that, but he was secretive as well. Only by luck was she able to hear an inkling of conversation between her father and the Heraldic Master. They seemed really worried over some family heirloom, a stone it must've been. She couldn't recall that well, for it was hard to hear through the large, wood and metal doors separating her from the sanctum where the two conversed. Do they think that she'd steal it or something? What was the big deal anyway?

Letting out a sigh, Kayla plopped down on her plush, rose-coloured bed. From this position, she could now focus on the view _past_ the city of Evermore. Her gaze first met The Great Road, the main exit from the city into the surrounding world. This grand path connected Cross with its various towns; among which where the mining town of Salva and the heraldic Village of Mars. She then looked even further away, at The Lasguss Mountains. Said to grasp the Heavens themselves, few have been said to ever reach their summit.

Looking Eastward, Kayla gazed upon The heraldry Forest, home of immense magical power. Within the past decade, though, the place has been overrun by dark spirits who could not find their way to heaven. Such a place was no-man's land, for none have ever returned alive since then.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud knocking on her bedroom door; opening it up revealed a duo of warriors, each spectacular in his own way. Mercenaries hired by the King they were; Kayla knew of the end of the elite Knighthood of Tria.

The mercenary on the left was tall, with dark blue hair and serious demeanor in his stare. His sword was sheathed, though Kayla assessed that it could be unsheathed in any millisecond of the warrior's choosing.

The other mercenary was even more of a sight to behold, though not as imposing in his own right. A pair of short swords hung at his sides, yet that was not the only pair of things coming from him. Large tendrils of flesh, maroon and turquoise, stretched from his shoulders and ended in inhuman faces! _This_ is what made him amazing.

She's heard of this second man, actually, so the surprise wasn't nearly as great. It was enough, however, to warrant a concern as to why they were stationed outside of her room in the first place.

"What's going on here????" Kayla wondered.

The larger of the two people, the one on Kayla's left, spoke first. "King Clother had ordered the castle into complete lockdown; nobody is to go in or out."

"What!? Why?"

It was the other one, the one with the symbiotes, that responded. "Something of great value has been stolen from the treasury. The thief is thought to still be hiding inside this castle. Specifically, the King wishes for _you_ to remain in your room."

What luck. Kayla couldn't even roam around the _castle_, let alone the world. Was this some sort of punishment? Maybe her father thought _she_ was the thief, and these mercenaries were keeping her prisoner in her own room?

"Sorry to inconvenience you, milady, but it's for your own good." With that, the brown-haired one on her right closed the wooden door; both still stood outside of her room.

Enough is enough, Kayla thought. Things were going to change here and now. She paced around her tower, in deep thought. Her eye caught a bunch of tousled bed sheets in the corner of her room; looking towards her window, she then thought of the impossible.

If there was one thing that Kayla thought herself good at, it was tying knots. One of the castle chambermaids had taught her the trade in her spare time. Monkey knots, pillow knots, any knot had become a simple task for Kayla to accomplish. This would be a unique challenge, however; unique obstacles were present in this occasion. Most importantly, her life would be on the line; she planned on climbing down her creation from her window.

An hour later, after assembling the sheets together in a rope-like fashion, Kayla tied one end securely to her bed. She took one last breath before throwing the other end out her window. It was now or never. Kayla only hoped that nobody spotted her as she descended into the world below.

She should have hoped for other wishes. As a chain is only as strong as its weakest link, so too is a knotted rope of sheets. Kayla had no idea what happened until she was already plunging.

"Oh my god oh my god!" she panicked. It can't end this way!

The ground was fast approaching. Her life flashing before her, Kayla closed her eyes to keep from seeing the fast approach of the hard ground below....

----------

****

Darkness was fast approaching. King Clother wondered if he had in fact did the right thing by keeping Kayla barged in her own room. As he sat on his large, golden throne he observed the guards around the room that he himself had stationed there. The room was unusually silent despite the dozens of soldiers within; normal times saw more noise despite the fact that there were usually less guards present. This was the result of these trying times, no doubt.

The silence was broken by the entrance of none other than Petrus, along with the two mercenaries that were supposed to be guarding Kayla's room.

"What's going on here?" Reinor wondered. "What's the meaning of this?"

"Excuse our presence, milord, but Princess Kayla has gone missing."

The King nearly fell out of his chair upon hearing those words. Petrus wondered if he would suffer another heart attack.

"These two told me that she did not exit through the door to her room," Petrus continued. "She must've found another way out, though we could find no clues as to how she escaped."

"By the Gods, you guys had better be telling the truth," Reinor replied. "I grant you three permission to leave the castle. But know this: if I find that _any_ of you are lying or assisted in setting Kayla free in any way, you will be tried for treason and your _head_ will be mounted on my wall! Understood!?"

"Reinor, calm down, you're not yourself!"

"That was a direct order, Petrus!"

"... We will see to it that she is found safe and sound, milord. Come, fellows."

The three left through the main door with haste. The King regained his composure for a bit, only to break down in tears. In one day he had lost two things that were of great importance to him, and still with no idea as to how they could have been taken from right under his nose.

"Curse this world! _Curse everything!_ Why, Tria, did you do this to me? After my years of servitude to my nation, WHY!!!!????"

It was getting cold. Clother could use a sip of ale to calm his senses. By Tria, maybe he was already older than he thought. However, the chill became too great, and the remaining guards throughout the chamber seemed to look on with indifference. Was this some sort of joke?

Clother then felt dizzy, for the shadows of the ceiling seemed to dance in his mind. The sensation became more intense, though, and that's when Reinor realized that something was terribly wrong....

The shadow descended onto the carpet just in front of Clother's throne. He couldn't tell, but it seemed to be bowing.

"**_And my majesty awaits._**" Its voice was the coldness of Death itself, and Reinor wondered if it was here for him.

"Guards, don't just stand there, attack it!"

"**_They won't obey your order, for their souls belong to me now. My powers have grown significantly since I found your precious trinket. I can once again speak. Come to think of it, you never let me speak my mind much in life, have you Reinor?_**"

"It was you who stole it! Who are you?"

"**_What's the matter, you don't remember me, Clother? You tried to have me executed_**."

No, it couldn't be! "_Necros_...."

"**_You're rule has always been questionable, Clother. Why did you keep the artifact secret? You could have been number one. But instead you let the land slip into hardship, you were an unfit King. I could have helped to rebuild the land, but you, Clother, approach the world with such a closed mind. You'd have it no other way than your own._**"

"I only wanted to protect my nation from the danger the Crest of Souls represented!"

"**_You only lied to your nation. You lied to your stepdaughter, too. For years she had wanted to break free from your incessant control, just like all of us. But she got that wish. She jumped out the window. You are a liar; you are a coward. And you are a murderer. Perhaps you'd like to see your daughter's mangled form before I slowly eviscerate you... I have the power to show you. I have all the power now._**"

The King could take no more of this. He wished not to give in to this monster's depravity. Rummaging through his robes, Clother found a dagger that would be just right to slit his own throat.

"**_Fool!_**" Necros echoed, as the dagger Clother held became too hot for him to hold.

"_What did you do_!?" Clother screamed in agony; skin from his right hand had been baked right off.

"**_Running away never solved anything,_**" Necros replied. "**_You will not escape your past that easily. Embrace your mistakes. He who can control souls can control fate... embrace your new GOD, Clother; begin by begging for forgiveness and letting me purify your soul. I will teach you everything there is. I will teach you pain, I will teach you suffering. And it will be a long, HARD lesson indeed. For Death is just the Beginning...._**"


	2. The Soulless Cometh

**The Absolution**

**CHAPTER II:**

**The Soulless Cometh:**

"**_There is no heaven. There is only HELL. Expellian nature itself is impure, and has always been doomed to an existence of ignorance... until now. Pain and torment are the forebears to enlightenment. To become one with The New Lord is an honor well-deserved by all of Expel. You will be saved. Saved not from suffering, saved not from pain, but saved as fate and righteousness intended to happen... as I intend to happen. And you... you shall be mine, Kayla, you shall be mine...._**"

****

----------

Kayla awoke feeling as if a thousand pounds pinned her to the ground. Darkness was all around her, and it was all but impossible to tell what time of day it was. She must've been out for hours, and had little energy to move even if there were no obstructions.

"Hello?" she managed to whisper. "Is... anybody... out there?"

Of course nobody could hear her, but it couldn't hurt to try, could it? After awhile her vision seemed to improve; from overhead a faint moonlight poured through debris of hay, straw and wood. This she presumed had broken her fall, saving her life – a blessing that occurred in vain since those very debris now kept her confined.

"This will _not_ be my grave!" Kayla mustered, trying harder to free herself. Her struggling caused a few stones to tumble to the ground; however, she soon began to feel that it had all been for naught. She felt cold and damp, and the trickle of water she now noticed from overhead signified the presence of a light rain.

A quick clanking, rhythmic as the sound of a drum, grew in Kayla's mind. It must be the result of a headache, she thought. As the clanking became louder, though, she realized that there were actual _people_ approaching. Armor-clad people.

"Milord, do you really think she'd still be around here?" A young voice spoke.

"This location is directly below her tower," an older, wiser voice spoke. "I speculate that Kayla perhaps escaped through the window. God-forbid if anything happened to her, she would be lying right here."

"_People, looking for me_!" Kayla thought. "Help me... help me please...."

"But there's no trace of her anywhere," a more gruff voice replied. "It's getting too foggy out anyway, we should call off the search."

"And what about what The King said, Dias? If we don't find her _now_, he'll serve our heads on a silver platter to the rest of the castle!"

"... We must return to the castle," the wise voice spoke.

"Milord? Why the change in mind?" the younger knight's voice panicked.

"I've just felt a disturbance, Ashton. The King might be in danger."

"You and the King have always been very secretive about such matters," Dias spoke. "But you are the second in command, and your intuition is more than reliable. I've seen you wield your powers in the past. The king might very well be in danger as you say. We should head back."

Second in command, Kayla thought? The wise voice must belong to The Heraldic Leader, Petrus.

"And what about Kayla?" Ashton wondered. "Are we to just leave her out there?"

"Well, if she's dead, she isn't going anywhere anyway," Dias replied.

"I just Pray that this is the right decision to go by," Petrus stated.

With that, the clanking that was Kayla's hope to freedom now became the frustration of her lifetime. Dias even admitted that Petrus and her father were very secretive individuals. Was that not among the reasons she ran away in the first place? She was almost glad that she hadn't been found by them. She just hoped that her father would be okay....

----------

****

The fog and the dampness were already taking their toll on the trio of would-be rescuers. The chill of the night seemed to seep through to the bone. The rust on the Knights armor was already showing... odd to happen in the course of only _one_ rainy night. Because of this, Petrus was further assured that evil was already weaving its plans as the trio traversed back to Castle Evermore.

The latest surge was the most significant of them yet. Although Petrus still had no clue as to who or what stole the Crest of Souls, he could assess with certainty that both the thief and the artifact were still inside the castle. Perhaps Clother was wise to increase the immediate guard around himself after all. But no chances could be taken. And if the castle still housed both the artifact _and_ the evil, Kayla was further away from danger anyway than if she were to be returned.

After a short while, the three found themselves back at the main gate. Many guards were patrolling the perimeter... perhaps the keeper of the artifact had not struck yet.

"Amazing," Dias noted. "Those guards must've been standing out in this weather all night, and yet they seem not the least bit phased."

"Such resilience is indeed unusual," Petrus agreed. Things just didn't seem right.

"Should we go back, then?" Ashton wondered. "Things seem to be in perfect order. They will only spot us with no Kayla and report us to The King!"

"No, we must press on to the castle!" Petrus replied.

"But everything is fine!" Ashton argued. The two organisms on his back seemed to grunt in agreement.

"Everything is **not** fine! You know not even an inkling of what I've felt or experienced, and as second – possibly _first_ – in command, you **will** obey my order."

"Are you suggesting the King might be dead?" Dias wondered.

"There is more to this situation than meets the eye. We will march up to those gates and check up on the King personally, with or _without_ Kayla. Follow my lead."

Dias and Ashton flanked Petrus as they approached a guard standing near the main gate. The droplets of water trickling down his armor glistened in the moonlight, and he seemed almost surreal as he stood waiting for Petrus' order.

"Open the gate so we may see King Clother," Petrus requested.

"**_We do not yield to your order,_**" the guard spoke. "**_We only follow the Lord now. And so shall you...._**"

"And what might 'Our Lord' want us to do?" Petrus mocked. Something was definitely terribly wrong with this situation.

"**_He wants you... to die!_**"

With that, the soldier drew his sword as Petrus retreated behind the two mercenaries!

"I knew this would happen!" Ashton yelled as he narrowly avoided the lunge the soldier replied with. Felling the traitor provided the trio with no victory, as a swarm of bloodthirsty guards soon surrounded them from all sides.

"Listen," Ashton continued, "We're sorry that we couldn't get Kayla back! We did out best!"

"Shut up!" Petrus ordered. "This isn't about Kayla, the King is _dead_! This isn't of his doing! These guards are not themselves; their souls are not with them. I can tell!"

"Well then, destroying these small-fry shouldn't be a problem, then," Dias replied as he slew two more guards.

"We must pull back before we become overwhelmed!"

"Good plan!" Ashton agreed, barely escaping death as a spear nearly skewered his abdomen. He returned the favor with his own sword. "But where should we go?"

"Just run!"

The three retreated away from Evermore Castle, away from their land, as dozens more soldiers marched on to hunt them down.

----------

****

Time has no meaning when you're on the brink of death. The only realities are coldness, loneliness and despair. Past memories of your life are your only companions, if you're even able enough to think clearly. For Kayla, this too was a challenge, as consciousness in itself was both a blessing and a curse.

The debris felt heavier now, that much she knew. She knew it so well, though, that the rest of her life was only a blur. If she remained conscious, the pain would remain unbearable; if she lost consciousness, though, Kayla would die. Perhaps Death intended it to end this way.

No, that was preposterous. You controlled your own fate; fate didn't control you, right?

"It was _I_ who decided to run away... and I ended up like this," Kayla cried. "Please... somebody help me...."

Hope was faint for Kayla, her willpower all but drained. The light of Heaven became almost blinding. She felt herself being lifted up off of the Earth, lifted into gentle yet strong hands. Was _this_ the perfection of God? Some of the pain – but not all of it – melted away as Kayla found herself gazing into the eyes of the savior himself!

"Princess Kayla! Are you all right?"

"Wha-?"

"You were trapped under some debris. I found you by chance, but we must get out of here!"

The moonlight still blinded Kayla a bit, though as her vision cleared she could tell that she recognized this person. She had definitely seen him somewhere before....

"We'll be doomed if they catch us!" His voice also sounded familiar to Kayla as well.

"Who's... they?" she managed to utter.

"No time to explain!" Indeed, Kayla could hear a half-dozen footsteps encroaching on her companion and she as he ran into a nearby alley.

----------

****

"Every moment now, I can feel the artifact being put to its new owners' unholy uses. Any man can see the power it holds. There is no longer the Empire of Cross, Dias, for our own are now the minions of who or whatever holds the Crest of Souls itself."

"Why did you and King Clother keep the legend a secret from everyone, anyway? To think that it was right in our Castle all along!"

Petrus furrowed his brow, hoping Dias would not only understand but accept his reasoning. "The artifact was a danger to everyone and everything throughout the world. We could not let that danger fall into the wrong hands."

"But could you not have afforded it more protection? We could have helped protect it, couldn't we have? It _has_ fallen into the wrong hands."

"There were guardian spirits protecting it, Dias, those that used to be of the Knighthood of Tria. Entities _were_ protecting it, only it was those that have already passed among the dead."

"But if you told us sooner, then Ashton might still be with us!"

"We don't know that he's dead," Petrus retorted, "We were simply separated upon our retreat from the castle gates."

"Over a half dozen soldiers who never seem to tire are hunting him down! If he knew the truth he would not have hesitated and they would _not_ be on his tail!"

"And what makes you so sure that nobody is on _our_ tail, Dias? There is still hope left for Ashton... and Kayla too."

The fog was becoming a bit less dense now; Petrus and Dias could now see a few blocks down the city street. "We had better take cover, and tread lightly," Petrus suggested. "Who knows what ungodly senses are present in the minions of Evil. The night in itself might not be a burden on their sight."

Creeping along a few shops until finally finding an alley, the two hoped to travel between buildings, in the search of Kayla and Ashton. Petrus would honor the King's wish of seeing his stepdaughter remain safe and unharmed.

----------

****

"You look bruised, Kayla," the young man told her as he wrapped a bandage around her bruised arm. As she settled in the warmth the fireplace in their makeshift shelter provided, Kayla remembered this youth as one of the mercenaries guarding her very room!

"Who are you?" she wondered, finally looking into the eyes of his personal companions as well.

"I am Ashton, and the two dragons on my back are Gyoro and Ururun," he stated, petting his buddies as he did so.

"I remember seeing you guard my room." Kayla was one to speak her mind.

"Yes, that was me, and my pal Dias. A thief stole some family artifact, and was thought to still be roaming about the castle. We were stationed at your room to keep you safe."

"Oh," Kayla cried. "I ran away because I thought my father thought _I_ was the thief, and it was the last straw...."

"We were sent away to look for you - Petrus, Dias and I, but we had to return to the castle on Petrus' order. The soldiers went crazy, attacking all three of us."

"My father is very protective of me," Kayla responded. "Did he want you dead if you returned without me? I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to put you guys in danger!"

"It's alright, milady. That's what I thought, too, but Petrus said that it wasn't the King's doing. He said that those soldiers lost their _souls_. Lost them to something... _evil_....

"Does this mean I will not be returning back home? How's my father handling this?" Kayla worried.

Ashton hated to break the truth to her. "Well, he's-"

A loud crash, as unexpected as thunder and far more dangerous, shattered the boarded window adjacent to where the two were seated. Splintered wood and shattered glass nearly cut Kayla and Ashton to ribbons; Kayla especially was lucky to remain unscathed because she wore no armor.

Emerging through the new opening was a large soldier, barbed mace in hand, evil seeping from his very gaze. His eyes became fixed straight into Kayla's:

"**_I'm going to kill you_**."

"Kayla, step back!" Ashton yelled, as the soldier swung his mace in her general direction. Though he missed, Kayla panicked and tripped over a nearby chair... fair game for the guard if not for Ashton's quick thinking.

Parrying his swing, Ashton thrust his left sword directly into the solder's helmet, killing him instantly. Ashton wondered if they could truly be killed as two more soldiers poured into the room, climbing over the debris with unnatural nimbleness.

"Kayla, upstairs!" Ashton ordered, as the two had already blocked all entrances from the outside. Kayla was thankful that she could run a bit faster now that her blue skirts were no longer an impediment, despite her injuries.

The first guard Ashton was able to fell without a problem; the second, though, delivered a timely blow with his gauntlet that sent Ashton reeling back in pain. The soldier used this opportunity to make his move – not on Ashton, but upstairs to where Kayla fled.

"Nave, you will not get away with this!" Ashton yelled as he tried to get up, but the blow must've broken his leg. He fell, his face colliding with the rough, wooden floor below.

"**_Death... always finds a way_**," the guard mocked. "**_And soon, it shall be the ONLY way._**"

****

----------

A faint silhouette of rooftops was all Petrus and Dias had to go by when navigating through the back streets of the city. Even for these seasoned veterans, following this path was just as difficult as traversing through a labyrinth. Petrus blessed the moon for being full – that much he knew – for the fog would have obstructed any light reflecting from any less that the complete circle.

Petrus broke the silence. "Who knows how far the reach of evil extends. There might be no safe haven all throughout this city."

"You said earlier that the souls of those who attacked us are gone. I mean, how can you tell these things? How can you feel the fabled artifact of legend being put to use anyway?"

"Dias, my studies in the magic arts have sensitized me to any flux in the magic stream. It was I who discovered that The Stone of Souls resided beneath Cross Castle in the first place. Think of magic as an ocean... I can feel any significant changes in current that are meant to be... and those that are _not_ meant to be. If a whole congregation of humans lost their souls, I can feel it. Unfortunately, I cannot feel only a couple mingled in a crowd _with_ souls. That is the peril this city now represents... not only the guards, but our very townsfolk can turn on us as well. And we will have no way to tell until they strike, for the Soulless are now mixed with the living in these parts."

"We should hear a struggle then," Dias concluded, "If these so-called 'Soulless' desire the eradication of those with souls. And why have we not been affected yet?"

"I cannot tell for sure," Petrus warned. "Remember, _nothing_ is absolutely certain anymore."

The duo came to a rather shoddy household; broken glass and debris were strewn around an interior lit by a fireplace. What caught their attention most, though, was the faint silhouette of a man lying face down!

"It seems they have already struck," Petrus concluded.

"Wait a minute," Dias said, "That's none other than-"

"Could it be?"

The duo approached the man with caution. As Petrus said, nothing was certain anymore. Could this somehow be a trap? As the two moved into a better position to see the whole figure, they saw that it was none other than Ashton!

"He's not dead," Petrus stated, "But he's out cold."

An ear-shattering scream, loud as the cry of the wind, resonated throughout the house. This awoke Ashton; despite his surprise at seeing Dias and Petrus, he only uttered out one sentence:

"_Kayla is in danger!_"

Sparing not a moment too soon, Petrus and Dias ran upstairs to the sight of a guard kneeling on a bed over Kayla. His sword, held high in the air, he prepared to thrust down straight into Kayla's heart....

"Get away from her!" yelled Dias, as he sliced the solder's head clean off.

A bit of the blood from his open jugular found its way onto Kayla's dress. She would have normally been mortified and traumatized over such a thing happening, but in a situation like this, the bloodshed almost seemed to be a blessing. Oh, well, the dress was no good anyway....

"You saved my life! I now owe both you _and_ Ashton. Wait... what happened to Ashton?"

"He is safe, Kayla milady. Injured, but safe." Dias replied, blowing. "You look like you've been through a lot. My name is Dias, and Petrus is right behind me."

"Ashton told me about you!" Kayla gasped. "You were also guarding my room. So much has happened since then."

"We all have a lot of explaining to do," Dias reassured. "But for now, you need your rest."

----------

Time passed. How much time, Kayla could not assess. The debris seemed to eschew Kayla further and further from hope.

Sinking further, eyelids getting heavier, she felt deja-vu settling in as Death once again seemed to rear its ugly head.

Voices - whispers of the Damned – called for Kayla to join them. The voices grew in her mind; grew both louder and more numerous. Some of those voices she could recognize.

"Kayla... Kayla... are you awake?"

And some voices, strangely, seemed unusually pleasant....

"Kayla, it's me!" Could it be... Ashton?

"You were dreaming," an older voice spoke... the voice of Petrus. Kayla was fully awake now, sitting up in the very bed she almost died in. Faint rays of sunlight shone through the boarded windows of the second floor, and she could make our Dias standing by Petrus' side as well.

"You're all here!" Kayla smiled. "I thought I was dead for sure. It must have been a dream... I was under the debris again. I heard Death calling for me...."

"That is all past now," Petrus reassured her. "And the morning seems to have staved off The Soulless for now."

"The who?" Kayla was still lost.

"I haven't yet told Kayla all that I know," Petrus replied, sparing a glance at Dias. "The time has come to explain all."

"And then we will be leaving this city," Ashton added; he, too, had finally been informed of the grand secret.

"But bear with me, Kayla milady, for there are still some things that are a mystery to even me."

"I'm all ears, Petrus. I'm just glad to see all of you again." She glanced at Ashton, smiling, before turning her gaze onto Petrus, awaiting both the good and the bad....

----------

****

"**_That's right, you little wenches. Run. Run far away. Go away from that which you do not understand. It is fools like you, fools that skimp on their responsibilities, that fully deserve the lessons I offer. And you, Kayla. You deserve the grace of matrimony with the God of Death itself. With... me. As I told your father, running away never solved anything...._**"


End file.
